


The Wait

by silvertrees



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Barduil - Freeform, Cultural Differences, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-17
Updated: 2016-08-17
Packaged: 2018-08-09 09:38:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7796791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silvertrees/pseuds/silvertrees
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The silence in the room was deafening, and Thranduil felt the need to speak, to say anything to break the terrible awkwardness that had seeped into the room. Perhaps he shouldn’t, for it was his mouth that had got him into this mess to begin with.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Wait

The silence in the room was deafening, and Thranduil felt the need to speak, to say anything to break the terrible awkwardness that had seeped into the room. Perhaps he shouldn’t, for it was his mouth that had got him into this mess to begin with.

Bard was standing on the other side of the room, his shirt still unbuttoned, as he attempted to hastily put his boots back onto his feet, though his hands shook and made the simple task much more difficult. The elf watched him carefully, seated on the very edge of the bed, his hands placed neatly upon his lap. Thranduil’s hair was slightly disheveled, his cheeks still flushed a light pink.

“It seems that I have upset you.”

The man slumped his shoulders at Thranduil’s words, a heavy sigh coming from his chest.

“Ignore me,” Bard murmured, growing annoying with the lacings on his boots and instead shoving them down inside with his foot. “I will get over it. Never mind.”

“Bard.” Thranduil’s voice was calm, though the glint in his eyes and the slight twitch of his lower lip gave way to how upset he truly was. He was ruining a good thing, the first good thing to come into his life in a very long while.

“No, Thranduil. It really Is fine. I get it.”

Oh, but Bard did not get it, of that the elf was certain. If the man truly did understand, surely he would not leave.

“Bard, it is different for my people.”

The human rolled his eyes- normally he could handle the high and mighty attitude the elf held over others, but right now his patience wore thin.

“I said that I get it,” The man repeated, his brow creasing into a scowl. “I should never have thought that you would want this with someone like me.”

“Someone like you?” Thranduil made sure to keep his voice neutral, though he grew more confused with each passing moment. Why on Arda was Bard so upset?

“I was foolish to think that the great elven king with all his splendor and beauty would ever desire me,” Bard grumbled, and though his voice was defensive, it was pained. The man waved his arms in the air dramatically, his brow only furrowing further. “I only wish that you did not lead me down this road. You… You should have said so right then and there!”

The elf was uncharacteristically quiet, biting at his lip as he pondered to himself for a moment. Bard buttoned his tunic and made his way to the door, and though he was upset, he didn’t have the heart to leave. Not yet.

Bard loved the elf, perhaps more than he had ever loved anyone else. He felt foolish for falling for another who did not desire him the same, and his anger stemmed mostly from humiliation, and a hurt sense of pride.

“Are you going to leave?”

Bard’s hand rested upon the door knob, the cod, ornately carved metal looming heavy in his hands. If he left now, it would all be ruined. Everything that the two of them had built, the trust that had taken so long to gain… But was there anything left to salvage, or was this all a game to the elvenking?

“My mind is telling me to,” Bard nodded, though his feet stayed put. “Why should I stay for someone who does not love me?”

The elf flinched as if the words scorched his skin, and he stood, walking over to Bard in several fluid steps, his long flowing robes swirling around him. Thranduil reached out to him, his hand tentatively brushing the man’s shoulder.

“Don’t,” Bard whispered, his eyes squeezing shut- He refused to break down and cry. He was not a child.

“I do love you,” Thranduil whispered, delicate fingers now trailing along Bard’s arm, dancing along the fine lines of chiseled muscles. “Meleth nin, please.”

“Then why do you turn away from me?” Bard asked, turning to face his love, looking up at the taller elf defiantly- the fire swirling inside of him that Thranduil adored. “Why do you invite me here, into your rooms, into your bed, and then tell me to go as soon as…” He stopped, not finding the words that he wished to say. This was foolish, it was like he were a young boy in his teenage years.

“I cannot make love to you,” The elf acknowledged, tilting his head. He knew this was to be a sore spot in their relationship, a bump in the road as the humans often put it. Thranduil watched as Bard’s face fell at the admission, though he quickly cupped the man’s face in his hands.

“I cannot make love to you… not yet, no matter how much I desire to do so.” Thranduil paused, talking of such things being so foreign to him. “And…and I do desire to. I have for some time. It is not for lack of desire that I cannot give you this.”

“Then what is it,” Bard asked sadly, slouching even more. The pair had made their relationship official several months ago now, and had been together much longer than the public had known. Bard knew that to an elf, hardly any time had passed at all, but he was certainly ready for the next step in their relationship. He loved their kisses and their talks, their hand holding and lingering kisses, but to be with his love and to feel his body in every way… Bard desired it greatly.

“I am not ready to wed again,” Thranduil said softly, looking down at the floor instead of into Bard’s eyes. Bard looked at him confused, though he stood a little straighter. “In my culture, to join your body with another is to wed. I do love you, Bard, and I do desire you. I am not saying that I shall never be ready but… not yet. There is more at stake here than just the two of us… the children- Legolas, the realm. I am not saying that I never wish to wed you, but you must understand that this is very new to me. You are mortal- I will lose you. I must first ease my mind in the knowledge that once again, I shall lose my mate.”

Thranduil sighed heavily, biting at his lip once more, a nervous habit. “If this is what you wished for, then I am afraid it shall be some time still. I understand if you still wish to go, I… just wanted you to understand.”

Bard had never felt so guilty in the entirety of his life. “Oh, love,” He frowned, gently wrapping his arms around the elf’s thin waist. “I am sorry,” He whispered, resting his head upon the other’s shoulder. “It’s alright- You are worth it. You are worth the wait. I’ve been terribly selfish- Look at me, grumpy like a schoolboy just coming into his years.”

“Men,” The elf chuckled, rolling his eyes. It felt good to laugh, the tension slowly easing into the room, comfort pouring back in. The man laughed as well, reaching all the way to wrinkle the creases of his eyes.

“Do you have any Dorwinion left,” Bard asked, easily kicking off his boots once more, and shrinking down another half inch, much to Thranduil’s amusement. 

“What kind of a foolish question is that?”


End file.
